


One Weird Trick

by queenhawke



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, sex criminals au, yeah u read that right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhawke/pseuds/queenhawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River Song and John Smith are ordinary people with an extraordinary gift: for them, sex literally makes the world come to a standstill. So they do what any new couple having sex and freezing time might do:<br/>They rob banks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. River down in the Silence

**Author's Note:**

> OK SO this is a Sex Criminals AU. If you're not familiar with Sex Criminals, it's a brilliant comic by Matt Fraction (of Hawkeye fame) and Chip Zdarsky (of........ Sex Criminals fame???) about two people who have sex and stop time and rob banks and it's great and you should read it.  
> Anyway this will obviously have elements lifted from Sex Criminals, but the overall plot will be different/character's backstories are different so this fic won't really spoil anything aside from the basic premise ('have sex stop time rob banks').  
> So like.  
> Read Sex Criminals.  
> But also read this fic.

“ _John, hurry!”_

“ _I know, I know! God, just – let me – bloody belt is stuck!”_

“ _Why are you even wearing a belt?!”_

“ _Because I need my trousers to stay up when we're not having sex.”_

“ _That's why you buy trousers that fit properly! Preparation, John, preparation.”_

“ _I got it, I got it!”_

“ _Jesus, finally. Here, let me –”_

“ _No, it's fine, just get up there –”_

“ _Quickly, quickly!”_

“ _YOU TWO.”_

“ _Ah, hell.”_

“ _THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE, CHILDREN.”_

“ _Just ignore her, just – fuck.”_

“ _I'm trying!”_

“ _ON THREE, WE'RE COMING IN AFTER YOU.”_

“ _That's it, sweetie – harder – shit, that's –”_

“ _ONE.”_

“ _God, River –”_

“ _TWO.”_

“ _Almost there, almost –”_

“ _THR-”_

 

Here's a question: say you found yourself in a bank, furiously having sex with your boyfriend so you can stop time, rob the bank, and also escape from some mysterious agency you're just going to call 'the Sex Police' for the moment – would you say you've taken some wrong turns in your life, or some very, very right ones? Because River Song was having a hard time (pun obviously intended) deciding on whether this situation was incredibly awesome or incredibly awful.

Maybe we should back up a bit. Here's a different question: ever had an orgasm so good it seemed like time itself stopped for a while? Because River has. River has that every time she orgasms, in fact. Except it doesn't _seem_ like time stops. Time actually stops. Like, literally. Like, the whole world goes all weird and colourful and quiet, and everything around her is frozen.

It was a bit of a shock the first time. She was thirteen, having a bath, just exploring her changing body, and before she knew it, a warm glow washed over her and the water from the tap froze. It was like someone had paused the whole world. There was no sound anymore, no movement, no nothing. Just her. And the _colours,_ swirling and glowing around her, enveloping her. An ocean of warm silence and colour had somehow exploded from within her and it felt good – no, it felt _amazing_.

Needless to say, it scared the shit out of her. She quickly clambered out of the bath and into her bed, underneath the safety of her blankets. She was afraid that it was permanent, that time had stopped forever and she was trapped in this frozen dimension, that maybe God had punished her for committing this sin. Yet when she woke up the next morning, everything was back to normal, and the only evidence of the strange event was one of the nuns from the orphanage yelling at her for leaving the tap open all night and flooding the first floor.

And wasn't a one-off, it kept happening. She'd climax and time would stop. Without fail. She started to get rather worried. Yeah, it was _awesome_ , but also, _what the hell_. Was this a normal thing? Did this happen to everyone? She lived in a catholic orphanage, so she could hardly ask her caretakers. They were _nuns_. Even the slightest mention of anything sex-related would send them into hours-long speeches about abstinence and purity and whatnot. And if she brought up the whole freezing time thing – well, she wouldn't have been surprised if they'd performed an excorcism on the spot.

So she took to the only thing she trusted: books. First the orphanage's, though they didn't help her much, all of them being religious texts. Miracles happened in the Bible, of course, but unsurprisingly none of them involved masturbating.

Now, she wasn't allowed to go outside on her own, and she certainly wasn't allowed to go to the local library. That place was full of lies and filth, they told her, so naturally it was the place she most wanted to go. She'd snuck out at night before, but only ever for short trips, or to lie in the garden and look up at the stars. Sometimes she'd dream about going there, to the stars, to some distant planet where she could do what she want. No getting up at five in the morning to pray, no scrubbing the floor when she'd been disobedient, no torturous lessons, no preaching. No nuns. No rules. She'd have a closet full of fancy dresses, not the drab uniforms they made her wear at the orphanage. And high heels. Red ones.

For now, she'd have to be content with the library. She took her chance on a stormy Wednesday night, knowing the rain and thunder would drown out the sounds of her breakout. She always loved thunderstorms; something about the electricity in the air made her feel more alive. And she certainly felt more alive going on this grand adventure. The library didn't have much in the way of security, just an old-fashioned lock that made River scoff. Locks were basically invitations. She made her way inside, and it was like stepping into a whole new world.

It wasn't a big library. It wasn't impressive, or pretty. It wasn't old, but it wasn't very new either. It was the most average library you could imagine and yet... and yet to River it might as well have been a different planet. That first night she didn't even read anything. She just walked around, her fingers tracing the spines of all the books. There were so many! And so many different kinds! Fiction and non-fiction, ghost stories and romances, books about the future and books about the past, picture books for kids and graphic novels for adults. It was like being in a candy store. And River wanted to eat _all_ the candy.

She didn't know how time had passed so quickly, just sitting around all those books, just looking, but suddenly the storm had stopped and the sky was turning a light grey, and she had to get back to her room as quickly as possible. The whole rest of the day she couldn't stop smiling. She'd finally found an escape from her prison.

She had to go back, of course. From then on she'd visit the library almost every week. She made it her personal mission to read each and every book there. It was a bit of an ambitious quest, of course, considering she only had a few hours every night, but dammit if she wasn't going to try her hardest. She thought about taking a few books with her, but the risk of getting caught was too high. It would be bad enough if they found out she'd been wandering around town, but bringing back forbidden books? She didn't even want to think about what kind of punishment they would inflict. So she had to take the slow path. It was worth it, though. Those nights at the library became the sole light in her life, something to hold on to. Something to live for.

And then she got caught. Not by the nuns, mind you. By the Librarian.

It was her birthday, of all days. This being a special day, she'd treated herself to a trip to her personal heaven. She'd done the usual thing: sneak out, make her way to the library as fast as she could, picked the lock, and settled down on the ground with a torch and an exciting new book. She'd been so engrossed in the book (a fantasy epic spanning about 900 pages) that she hadn't even heard the man come in, until his voice suddenly piped up from right behind her.

“That's a rubbish one, if I'm honest. You should read Tolkien instead.”

River jumped about fifty feet in the air, book clattering to the ground. She spun around, and there, right in front of her, illuminated by the light of her torch, was a man in a blue pinstripe suit.

“Hello!” he said in a cheery voice. River was paralyzed. She knew she should flee. She'd knew she could. There were two exits, and she'd been trained well, there was a good chance she could outrun this man. She could make a run for it. Yet somehow she couldn't. Something about the sudden shock of seeing another person rooted her to the ground. This was it. She was done for. This man was going to call the police, and the police would call the orphanage, and the orphanage would put her through hell for her disobedience. They'd put locks on her door, on her windows. They'd make sure she'd never escape again.

“It's alright,” the man said, obviously noticing the fear in her eyes. “I won't hurt you.”

“Please...” River tried to say, but her voice was barely more than a whisper. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “Please don't call the police.”

“I won't. Promise.” The man took a step towards her, but River backed away. “Hey, hey, it's alright, I won't do anything. Look, why don't we turn on some lights.” He walked over towards the lightswitch, flicking it. The overhead lamps came to life, buzzing softly, and River had to close her eyes against the sudden brightness. When she opened them again, she saw the man still standing by the lightswitch, observing her.

He was very tall, she noticed, and very skinny. Behind his black spectacles glimmered a pair of kind, brown eyes. River relaxed a little. He didn't seem threatening. And he hadn't called the cops yet. Perhaps she was safe.

“What's your name?” he asked. Only now did she notice that he had an English accent, much like her Mother Superior.

“I – I can't say,” she said. If he knew her name, he could find out who she was, where she came from. She couldn't have that.

“Well, that won't do,” he said. “How can we be friends if I don't even know your name?”

“But we're not friends. We just met,” River said, bewildered.

“You broke into my library, but not to steal. To read. That's exactly the kind of person I'd like to be friends with.”

“You're not going to turn me in?”

“Nah,” he said, shrugging. “You're not doing anything wrong. You're just reading, that's what libraries are for. Though that begs the question: why break in at night? Why not just come in during the day?”

River hesitated. “I... I'm sorry, I really can't...”

The man threw up his hands. “Right, right! Top secret, I understand. Is there anything you _can_ tell me about yourself? What about your age?”

“I'm sixteen,” she lied. She stood up a little straighter, a little more defiant. “And why don't _you_ tell me something about yourself? What about _your_ name, your age?”

“I'm the Librarian. I'm an alien from outer space and I'm 904 years old.”

River scoffed. “You're lying.”

He laughed. “As were you. If you won't tell me the truth, why should I? Fair's fair.”

“You clearly work here. I could easily find out who you are.”

“Sure,” he said, rocking back and forth on his heels, “but where's the fun in that?” He winked.

Shit.

She kinda liked this guy.

He became somewhat of a mentor to her from then on. Gave her book recommendations, told her stories about her favourite authors, told her very improbable stories that she was sure never happened but were entertaining nonetheless. Even gave her a key, which she almost didn't want to use because breaking in was so much more fun. They never talked about their own personal lives. He understood her boundaries, and never pushed her. She was very grateful for that. She didn't tell him about her Big Secret obviously, but he noticed her interest in the human body, and specifically human sexuality. The library itself didn't have that many books on the subject, so one night he brought a whole crate full of books he'd lent from other libraries, and discreetly put it where she would see it. The books didn't help much, though. It was clear that her situation was unique. The only option she had left was to conduct a study by herself. On herself.

For months she wrote everything down in a little book she carefully hid under the floorboards of her bedroom. She tracked everything: when it happened, what she was doing when it happened, how long she stayed in the Silence (which is what she'd come to call the timeless dimension she slipped into), how she felt, what she'd eaten... Everything that might be even remotely relevant. Now she just needed a way to sort through it. She'd need the Librarian for that.

In all her months of sneaking out, she had never once used her time-stopping abilities. Just climbing in and out of the window was easy enough. Plus she'd always been a bit paranoid that they'd know, somehow. As if using her power to break the rules would set off some sort of alarm. Rubbish, of course. She'd used her power often enough, and had even pulled some pranks with it. Surely if they knew about it, she would have been punished by now. Still, she felt a bit better doing things the old-fashioned way. She realised she _had_ to use it now, though. Over the course of the last couple of months, she'd taken quite a few books with her for her project, and they had to go back. The space under the floorboards was getting rather small, and she couldn't risk the nuns discovering them. Carrying all the books while climbing out of the window was out of the question, so the only logical thing to do was stop time. This way she could just go out the front door while carrying the books in her arms.

She felt a bit nervous as she walked through the orphanage with her pile of books, but she got out without a hitch. No alarms, no screaming nuns, no nothing. Just her, the colours, and the silence. By the time she reached the library, it had worn off, and she was back in the real world. She let out a sigh of relief. She should do this more often, really.

The Librarian was already waiting inside, and when she explained that she had a lot of data to sort through and no idea how to do it, he perked up immediately.

“A taxanomy!” he said. “You need a taxanomy. Like the Dewey Decimal System. It's what we use in libraries to categorise all the books. Taxanomies are very helpful when it comes to sorting through data. Here, I'm sure we have a book on it...” He started towards one of the aisles, but suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around to face her. “Have you ever thought about running a library?”

“I'm fourteen,” River said, a bit puzzled.

“Right, of course, but in the future?”

_I don't know if I have a future,_ she wanted to say, but instead she just shrugged.

“What would you like to be when you grow up, then?”

The answer was easy. “Free.”

He stared at her, rather intently, as if he was trying to read her mind. Uncomfortable, River looked at the ground to avoid his gaze.

“Someone's hurting you.”

She looked up at him again, startled. His voice was soft, and his eyes gentle.

“I can see it in your eyes. When we first met, you were so on edge, so afraid. Like a small animal, always on the lookout for predators. And it's less now, you're more at peace here now, but... it never really goes away, does it? The fear. You can't come here during the day because someone is preventing you from doing so. Someone you're very afraid of.”

River said nothing.

“I want to help you, but I can't if you won't let me.”

She wanted to. She wanted to let him help her. She wanted to trust that he _could_ , that he could take her away from that awful place. Maybe she could live with him, maybe she could help run the library. Maybe he could save her.

It was getting light outside, she noticed. She had to get back.

“Or you could stay. I can help you. I promise.”

She hadn't even realised she'd said it out loud. Maybe she hadn't, maybe he'd just guessed what she thought.

She could stay. She could.

_I can't, they'll find out, they'll find me, they'll take me back_.

She could take his hand and run away.

_They'll know, they'll come for me._

She could be free.

_You can never be free._

“I have to go.”

“Hey – kid –” He grabbed her hand, but she shook him off.

“Just let me – just let me think about it. I need to think about it.”

“Okay,” he said, still looking worried. “Same day next week?”

“Yeah. Yeah, same day.” And with that, she dashed out the door, not even looking back.

 

River paced around her bedroom. It was a week later, and she still hadn't decided what to do. Tonight, she'd go back to the library. Tonight, she could go with the Librarian. Tonight, she could be out of this place forever. She looked around the room. She wouldn't miss it, that was certain. The bare white walls; the cold, hard bed; the tiny window, the view blocked by a row of trees. Nevertheless, it had been her home for almost fifteen years now. And it was familiar. Who knew what the world was like out there? Who could say if it was even better?

She shook her head. _It has to be_ . _Nothing can be worse than this._ No, she had decided: she was going to go. The question was: how? She could just sneak out like she normally did, without using her powers, but... this was it. This was the night that would change her life. Her freedom depended on getting to the library safely. She would be stupid to take any unnecessary risks. So with a gasp and a moan, she entered that mysterious, timeless dimension.

She'd decided on just going through the front door, since there was no real need to climb out the window now, but she started to regret that decision quickly. Normally she liked walking through the orphanage while time had stopped. The colours that surrounded her made the dark and miserable place seem much nicer. Tonight, however, it felt unnerving somehow. The low buzz in her ears seemed menacing, the frozen eyes of the nuns seemed to follow her as she passed them by. She was almost convinced that if she looked back, they would all be turned towards her, watching her. Just her paranoia, she knew, but she started running nevertheless.

She ran all the way to the library. Didn't even look back. She never wanted to lay an eye on that place again. Her freedom awaited. _Freedom_. She couldn't help but smile, even as she ran. She was going to be free. The Librarian was going to save her.

Except he wasn't there.

The library was cold and empty when she arrived. Usually the Librarian got there before her, but now he was nowhere to be found. _Maybe he's just late_ , River thought, _maybe he got hold up somehow._

So she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited until the first light of morning broke through the clouds and the birds started singing. River paced through the library. This couldn't be happening. He'd _promised_. He wanted to help her. He'd been so worried. So sincere. He couldn't have been lying.

She couldn't wait any longer. She had to go back. She made for the door, but then her gaze fell on a copy of the local paper and her heart stopped. There, at the bottom of the front page:

_LOCAL LIBRARIAN KILLED IN FREAK ACCIDENT_

She ripped the paper from the stand, eyes scanning the article. There was a name, but of course she didn't recognise it. The article continued further on in the paper, though, so she flipped to the corresponding page, nearly tearing the paper as she did so. And there he was, smiling at her from page four. It was a picture of him in front of the library, with a gaggle of children next to him. She stared at it for a moment, then tore her eyes from it to read the article, though the words would hardly register. Something about him being electrocuted somehow. They weren't sure yet how exactly it had happened, but the entire town was mourning. He had been well-loved by the community for his work in the library, especially his reading programmes for children and –

Well. It didn't matter.

He was dead.

He wasn't coming because he was dead.

He couldn't save her now.

 

_They both came with a shout, and she felt the air thicken around them. When she opened her eyes, the colours swirled around him. He was smiling, the bastard._

“ _Hello.”_

_She couldn't help but smile back. “Hello.”_

_They stared at each other for a moment, before remembering the dire situation they were in. River slid off the counter, hastily pulling up her pants as John did the same beside her. They didn't have much time, she knew. The... Sex Police, or whatever they were, they could come in here with them. They had to get out, fast._

“ _Hey, it's alright,” John said, noticing her anxiety, “it'll be okay. We'll just stick to the plan and it'll all be okay.” He buttoned up his shirt, tied his bowtie (why did he even wear his bowtie?) and took his gun from the counter where he left it. Stuck out his free hand with a grin._

_This guy._

_This fucking guy._

_Fucking this guy._

_She sighed, grabbing her own gun and taking his hand._

“ _Oh John, w_ _hat about this looks okay to you?”_

 


	2. Throw Parties, Save Libraries, Get Laid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so.  
> IT'S BEEN A WHILE, SORRY ABOUT THAT. I've been busy. But here's some smut to make up for it! And this is my first time posting smut! Great! Hope I didn't fail massively! It's 1am so there's probably typos! Enjoy!

**LONDON, 2015**

The party was Amy's idea. “That's how rich people do it,” she'd said confidently, “they hold massive parties and everyone donates a shitton of money. It's a foolproof plan. Also, we'll get to have a party.” River rather doubted it would work that well, considering neither of them had any rich friends, and considering local public libraries weren't exactly that interesting to rich people (unless it came to closing them, apparently). Still, Amy had a point: they'd get to have a party. River loved parties. And if she got a couple of bucks out of it, the better.

So anyway, here's the lowdown: River owned a library. The bank was foreclosing the library. This was shit. River did not in any way have enough money to save the library, considering she gave up her job as a professor at a prestigious university to run this library. Was that a stupid move? Probably. Did she regret it? Yeah, sometimes. But hey, the library was doing fine when she took over. How was she to know it would all go to shit so fast?

Blame it on the bank. Or capitalism. Or just bad luck.

Either way, she wasn't giving up so easily. First, she'd bought all the books she could. Yes, this meant she had even less money, but at least she could save some books. This also meant her and Amy's apartment was stacked full of the things, but that wasn't so bad. It actually made the apartment looks sort of cool, in a 'this is the kind of apartment you would normally only see in photo shoots for bohemian fashion labels because who the hell lives with so many damn books' sorta way.

And now Amy had come up with this fundraising party idea. Not a bad idea at all. They'd charge five quid for entry, put up a donation box for the people who were feeling extra generous, and they had a good excuse to get drunk and make out with strangers. Win-win for everyone.

Come midnight, the party was in full force. Quite a few people had shown up, and River was delighted to see most actually threw some money in the donation box. Honestly, she hadn't expected people to be this generous. It was still nowhere near enough to save the library, but it was a whole lot better than nothing. And everyone seemed to have fun, too. People were laughing and drinking and dancing, and Amy was getting increasingly more drunk and increasingly more Scottish. Currently, she seemed to be auctioning herself off.

“Alrigh', highest bid gets a kiss from yours truly!” Amy yelled, standing on a table. “All proceeds go to the Lux Library! An' who knows, if you're a good kisser, maybe you get some more.” She winked (or attempted to, but ended up just blinking), and a loud cheer erupted.

River laughed. “And I thought you said your kissogram days were over.”

Amy scoffed. “'s No grams involved here, jus' kissin'. And it's for _charity_.”

Suddenly, a voice erupted from the crowd. “What makes you think someone would pay to kiss you? If anything, you should be paying _them_ , Pond.”

All heads snapped to the source of the taunt, River's included. A young, gangly looking man stood in the middle of the room, smirking at Amy. As soon as she caught sight of him she let out a shriek, and almost fell off the table. River watched, a bit bewildered, as the ginger rushed over to the man and nearly threw him over with the force of her hug.

“Raggedy Man!” she yelled, pretty much crushing him. Then she suddenly let go of him, and punched him in the arm. “You're late for my – I mean, _our_ party!”

“Well, you know,” the man said, rubbing the spot where she'd punched him, “I got distracted.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Got lost, more like.”

“It's a big city! You can hardly blame me. Besides, looks like I arrived just on time anyway.” He took a hold of Amy and looked at her sternly. “You are very drunk, Pond. Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

Amy punched him again. “What are you, my _dad_? C'mon, tryin' to save a library here.” She turned to the crowd again. “Alright, bid starts at five pounds!”

The man made to protest, but was drowned out by a whole host of men (and a good chunk of women) yelling out bids. Amy, clearly delighted, pranced away, riling up the crowd and driving up the bids. River shook her head laughing, and moved over to Amy's mystery friend.

“She's not as drunk as she looks, you know,” she said. “She knows what she's doing.”

The man scowled. “There have to be better ways to raise money.”

“Oh, I don't know. There's good money in prostitution.”

The man flushed and started stammering protests again, but River just laughed and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Relax, I'm just joking. I mean, it _is_ true, but I don't think we have to worry about Amy doing anything like that. Not anymore, anyway. Maybe a couple of years ago, when she was a kissogram...”

“Yes, well,” the man, his face still a bit red, “still, it's for a _library_. You should be, I don't know, selling books or something.”

“Believe me, I tried.” she sighed. “It's just not enough.”

The man finally tore his eyes from Amy to look at River, as if he had only just noticed he was talking to an actual human being. “Oh! Gosh, sorry, you must be River, then! The owner of the library?” He stuck out his hand. “I'm John. John Smith. But everyone just calls me the Doctor.”

A little light went on in her brain. “Ah, so _you're_ the infamous Doctor.” She took his hand, shaking it. She'd always wanted to meet him. He'd been Amy's best friend since her childhood, apparently, but he was never around because he was always traveling. He had a restless soul, Amy had said. Much like Amy herself, except instead of merely switching between jobs, he would disappear to faraway lands for years at a time. He'd pop back every so often, but somehow his visits to Amy had always coincided with River herself being away, so she'd never met him. She'd always wanted to, though. If Amy was to be believed, he was quite the character.

“Pleased to finally meet you. Amy's told me so much about you.”

“Ah. Good things, I hope.”

“ _Interesting_ things.”

John winced. “Oh dear. I don't think I want to know what that means.”

“Don't worry,” River said, smirking, “I like interesting.”

He caught her mischieveous look and started to blush again, bless him. She took the opportunity to take in his appearance. He was kind of handsome, in a strange, alien sort of way. He was no model, that was for sure. His face was practically dominated by his very prominent chin, though his cheekbones were competing for attention as well. His eyes were too deep-set, and his eyebrows too sparse, but combined with the mop of dark hair and a very charming smile, it somehow worked. He seemed very charismatic, if a bit awkward. The awkwardness added to the charm, she supposed. She assumed he was Amy's age, since they were childhood friends, so he had to be around 27, yet he dressed like some of her colleagues back at university. The really old ones. Though maybe tweed and bowties were just a hipster thing now.

He was checking her out, too, sneaking glances at her every so often. Well, no wonder. She'd made sure people would notice her, wearing the tightest, most low-cut dress she owned. Sex sells, right? Amy was proving that theory, anyway (the bid was up to fifty pounds now). She was actually a bit surprised at how nervous he seemed. From Amy's stories, it seemed like he was eccentric, but oozing with confidence, and, as Amy stressed very often, with an ego the size of the moon. Maybe it was just her, then. That made her smirk even wider. Making men nervous was one of her favourite pastimes. On the other hand, nervous men didn't make for very good bedfellows. She liked a bit more spice in her life.

Not that she was thinking of sleeping of him or anything. Though he did have nice hands, she noticed.

“So um,” John said, clearing his throat, “what's your favourite book?”

River laughed. “Now that is probably the most cliche way to break the ice at a fundraiser for a library.”

“Working, though,” he said.

“Is it? I haven't even answered your question yet.”

“Exactly. If you weren't interested, you would've just told me your favourite book straightaway. Now you're trying to make conversation, instead of answering a questionnaire.”

River raised an eyebrow. “I'm interested, am I?”

“Well, you did _say_ I was interesting.” She's pleasantly surprised to hear a bit of smugness in his voice. Maybe he was a worthy opponent after all.

“Ah, you got me there. What's _your_ favourite book, then?” River asked.

“Oh god, loaded question. There's so many good books.” He thought for a bit. “I'm quite fond of the Time Traveler's Wife, I suppose.”

That surprised her. “Didn't pin you for a romantic.”

“It's the time travel bits I like most,” he said, a bit defensive. “The mechanics of it, you know...”

“Sure, sure.”

“What about you then?”

“Ah, it has to be Lolita. I know everyone thinks it's just a dirty sex book, but – ”

“' _Lolita. Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth._ '”

She stared at him, mouth open. “That's –“

“' _Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita._ '”

A silence fell between them. John ran a hand through his hair, his nervousness returning.

“Or, you know... something like that –”

“We need to have sex right now.”

-

Cons of having a party in your own apartment: the mess, people touching your stuff, everything smells like beer and smoke for days, the mess, someone will inevitably break something, and the mess.

Pros of having a party in your own apartment: the bedroom's right there.

They stumbled through the door, laughing and giggling. They'd manage to sneak away unseen, after making sure that Amy was alright and wasn't doing anything particularly stupid (the bid had stopped at 89 pounds, though Amy had seemingly forgotten all about that and was now just snogging random people). As soon as River had shut the door behind her and locked it, she yanked John towards her and kissed him deeply. He kissed her back with a sort of wild enthousiasm that made her smile against his mouth.

She hadn't planned on doing this, honestly. She hadn't really planned on shagging anyone. It was a fundraiser, not a _real_ party. She was trying to promote her library, she had to at least be somewhat professional. But John was charming and funny and interesting and he could quote Nabokov off the top of his head. Besides, it had been a while since she'd had a good lay. Sure, okay, it might be a bit weird to shag a guy twenty years younger than her who was also her best friend's best friend, but... _Nabokov_. And it wasn't like this was the first time she'd hooked up with someone younger. For some reason she seemed to attract younger people.

It was probably the hair.

Speaking of which, John had tangled his hand in her curls and was doing some lovely things with his tongue. He wasn't exactly the best kisser she'd ever met (he was a bit sloppy and overeager), but that hardly mattered. He tasted nice, like sweets, and he smelled nice too, sort of flowery and fruity.

She broke away from his mouth. “Are you wearing women's perfume?”

“Uh, yes? They smell so much nicer than the men's ones.”

“Well, well.” She buried her face in his neck. “You're in touch with your feminine side. I like it.” She kissed his neck, biting ever so slightly. John groaned

“I mean, it's just a _smell_. I don't understand how smells can be gendered anyway,” he said, then let out a soft gasp when River's hand wandered underneath his shirt. “ _You_ smell nice too, by the way. Sort of earthy.”

“Must be the archaeology. I think I'm about 90 percent dirt now, thanks to the amount of time I've spent on my knees in it.”

“Hmm, so I guess you could say you're pretty... _dirty_?”

River laughed. “Oh sweetie, you have _no_ idea.” She slid her hand down, toying with the waistband of his pants, giving John a seductive look. “Want me to show you?”

His eyes widened, and he looked at her with an expression that was a mixture of aroused and slightly terrified.

“Ah – well, yes – that is to say – yes, but – well, it's just...”

River raised an eyebrow. “Is it a yes or a no? Because it's alright if you don't want to. I mean, I thought I'd been pretty straightforward about what we're were going to do, but if you've changed your mind...”

“No! No!” he said hastily, hands flailing about. “I do want to – you know – I mean you're gorgeous and clearly very clever and interesting and all – it's just, I usually don't do this. Just... sleep with someone on the same night I meet them. In fact that's _really_ not what I do at all.”

“Right,” River said, eyebrows still raised, confused as to where this was going.

“But what I'm trying to say is – it feels right? It just... it feels right. Us. This. I mean, we've hardly even done anything but it feels good. But it's confusing me a bit. That's all. And scaring me. And when I'm scared I start talking a lot.”

“I noticed.”

“So what I'm saying is...” He took a deep breath. “Yes. Please show me.”

“Don't worry, I'll go easy on you.” River smiled. “Now let's get you out of those terrible clothes.”

John pouted. “What's wrong with my clothes?”

“You're wearing a bowtie. Now, strip.” She sat down on the bed and looked at him expectantly.

He grumbled a bit, but obliged, hastily taking off his clothes. Once he was down to his boxers, he stopped.

“So um. Are _you_ not going to take off your clothes?” he said, nervously running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I'm just enjoying the show,” River said, taking in his nearly-naked body. She could feel her own excitement building, and part of her wanted nothing more than to pounce on him right now, but toying with him was so much fun. She let her eyes wander down his figure, and when she looked up again she could see him blushing under her gaze. He looked like a deer in the headlights. But like, a deer that's also kind of turned on by headlights, which was possibly the worst analogy she'd ever come up with.

“Right. Well, the show would rather like to get on the road.”

Poor thing. River sighed dramatically. “I suppose, if we must.” She stood up, sauntering towards him. “Young men,” she said, trailing a finger down his bare chest. “Always so impatient.”

“I'm not that young.”

She smiled, snaking a hand behind his neck and pulling him in closer. “I'm gonna need some proof for that.” And with that she leaned in, kissing him again, slowly this time. He practically melted against her, sighing happily. River couldn't help but grind against him slightly, causing his sigh to turn into a low moan that made her shiver. She understood what he meant by it feeling 'right'. It did feel different from other one night stands she'd had. It felt familiar somehow, and comforting. Like they'd done this a thousand times before.

And also she was getting really fucking horny.

The time for teasing was over. She slid her hand inside his boxers. He only jumped slightly when she finally wrapped her hand around his cock. His own hands grabbed her hips tightly, almost in reflex.

“Oh! Yeah, ok, yep, this is happening.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, eyes screwed shut and a little breathless, “yeah, fine.”

She stared at him for a moment. She'd hardly done anything and he already seemed to be on the edge. Either she was getting really good or – was he – god, he'd been so nervous the entire time...

“You're not a virgin, are you?”

His eyes shot open. “What! No!”

“Because honestly, it's nothing to be ashamed of, I'd just like to know beforehand –“

“I'm not a virgin!” His face was turning bright red. “Far from it – I've had – I'm definitely not – but it's just – you know, I'm nervous and – and it's been a while – like, a _long_ while, you know – and I'm sure you're far more experienced – or not! I don't know, I don't want to make any assumptions, I'm just saying you look like – I mean you seem like – look, I'm not... I'm not a virgin. I'm not.” At River's raised eyebrow, he let out a sigh. “I should just shut up, shouldn't I?”

“Well, you're not really proving your case like this.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I do believe I told you to show me you're not that young, and here you are, ready to explode at the slightest touch. Forgive me for being a little skeptic.”

“Speaking of touch, you're still holding my... ah...”

“Can you not even say the word? Your cock. I'm holding your cock.” He was getting even more red, bless his lil' cotton socks. She probably should feel sorry for him, but on the other hand, this was the most fun she'd had in bed in ages, and they hadn't even gotten to the bed yet. She tightened her grip, making him gasp.

“God – River...”

“Oh, I'm sorry, would you prefer a different word?” She started stroking him slowly. His fingers dug into her hips, a delicious pressure that shot a shiver down her spine. “Penis, perhaps? I've always found it a bit too clinical. Genitals? No, that's worse. Dick? Very American, don't you think? I lived in America for a while. Men would always be going on about their dicks. 'You wanna see my dick, sweetie?'” she said, briefly slipping into her native accent (and that felt rather thrilling, like she was showing him a secret, though he couldn't know what it meant). She picked up the pace a bit, pulling down his boxers with her free hand so she could have better access. “Don't understand why they thought that was a good pick-up line. Like one day a woman would turn around and be like, 'Yeah, sure, I'd love to'.” She wasn't even sure if he heard her, if he was even paying attention to her words. His eyes were screwed shut, his breathing heavy. One of his hands had left her hips and was now entangled in her hair. Poor thing. He really must've gone without sex for a long time.

“Maybe you like something more romantic? _Length_? That's what they use in romance novels, isn't it? _His length_. _His throbbing length, smooth and hot against her thighs..._ ”

“Christ,” John muttered, bucking against her hand.

“Oh, you are listening!” River exclaimed, delighted. “I knew the romance novel stuff would get your attention. Me, I don't care much for it. I like 'cock'. It's just a good word. Cock. Solid, simple, but a little bit dirty. I mean,” she said, leaning in close again so her mouth was right beside his ear, “'I want your length in me' doesn't sound quite as good as 'I want your cock in me', does –”

John's mouth was on hers before she could even finish the sentence. He started walking her backwards towards the bed, until her legs hit the edge and she fell, taking him with her. They landed with a _thump_ and a few swears.

“Ah, shit –”

“God, sorry, did I – ”

“You elbowed me in the ribs!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“No, it's – fuck, now you're crushing my leg.”

“Sorry!”

They shifted and put themselves in a more comfortable position, her lying on her back, and him on his hands and knees above her. She looked up at his face, that weird alien-yet-handsome face. She sighed. “I mean, not that I mind a little roughness, but not this kind.”

“Yeah, I suppose the whole 'falling onto the bed together' thing looks a lot easier in movies than it is in real life.”

“I think it's more that you're just very uncoordinated.”

“Oi!”

“You're like a drunk giraffe,” she giggled, and he pouted again.

“Yeah, well,” he said, and she _thought_ he was trying to look seductive, but it wasn't really working, “you know what giraffes have?”

“What?” she said, between giggles. “What the hell are you –”

“Really long tongues.” When she only stared at him in confusion, he continued, stammering a bit, “Which is... good... for, you know... performing cunnilingus on someone. Which is what I'm going to do now. If you'd like me to, that is.” His voice faltered as River continued to stare at him. “This all sounded a lot better in my head.” He made to sit up, move away, but River tugged him back down, taking his head in both her hands.

“John. Doctor. Sweetie,” she said slowly, “you are by far the most ridiculous person I have ever met.”

“Oh.”

She smiled. “But in a good way.”

He perked up. “Oh!”

“And yes, I'd love it if you went down on me. I would also love it if you never used the word 'cunnilingus' in the bedroom ever again.”

“Oh.”

“Now do your thing, you handsome giraffe.”

He grinned, then nodded, then hastily turned towards the task. River helped him get her dress off, and then her bra (he fiddled with the hooks for almost a minute before River took pity on him and undid them herself), and then her underwear. When at last she was entirely naked, he stopped to stare.

“Beautiful,” he whispered softly, bending over and trailing his hands along her sides. She gasped softly when he cupped her breasts, squeezing gently. “You have really nice breasts.”

River snorted.

“What? It's a compliment!”

“I know, sweetie,” she said, smirking, “but you're just so damn _sincere_.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“Nothing. I'm just not used to it. Anyway, don't you have some _cunnilingus_ to perform?”

“So you get to tease me to hell and back, but I have to go down on you on command?”

“Yes. And I'm getting rather impatient, so you should really get on with it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma'am.” He shuffled back and knelt down between her legs.

River closed her eyes and sighed happily as his hands started stroking the inside of her thighs. He was definitely trying to tease her, his hands moving excruciatingly slow, but she relished in his touch. She was normally more a 'rough and quick' sort of girl, but the way his hands moved, as if he was carefully mapping her body... Combined with the soft but steady thumping of the party that was still going on outside her room, it almost put her in a trance. And how weird it was to think of that, how weird it seemed that there were still dozens of people in the house, separated from her and John by just a few walls. It was like they were in their own private bubble, like they were the only ones left on this Earth.

Oh, she could get used to this.

She gasped when his fingers were suddenly on her sex, sliding along her folds, his thumb finding her clit and circling it slowly. She keened softly when he slid one finger, and then two, inside her, pumping slowly. And then his mouth was on her, sucking her clit, making her toes curl and her back arch.

“You taste like... thunderstorms and time.”

There was a pause.

Then River lost it. “What the _fuck_ –” she managed between giggles, “does that even _mean_?”

She hitched herself up on her elbows and looked down at John, whose face was a mix between ashamed and cross.

“I was trying to be romantic.”

“ _T_ _ime?_ What the hell does _time_ taste like?” She was still laughing, and John's face was getting more and more red.

“It's just... I dunno, it's just the first thing that came to me.”

“Is this you trying to tell me I'm old?”

“What!?” he exclaimed. “No! No, I just – god, I just wanted to be poetic.”

“Darling, I don't want poetry right now. I want you to go down on me.”

“Alright, alright!” He brought his face down between her thighs again. “No romance for you, got it,” he muttered.

“Fucking _time_ ,” she giggled, but this time her laugh ended in a gasp as John set his mouth to work.

He really was a strange one, she thought, as he continued licking and sucking in ways that caused her to cry out and grasp the blankets underneath her tightly. He was certainly proving to be a lot more adept at sex than she initially thought he would be, though she had the feeling that if she told him that, he'd be insufferably smug about it.

She was getting closer to the edge, she knew. He took his fingers out of her, and she let out a small sound of disappointment, but he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue, and that made her grab his mop of dark hair none too gently, pushing him down harder. She was so close now, she could've sworn time was already slowing down. She moaned, closing her eyes, and –

She didn't want to go yet, she realised.

If she came, time would stop, and she'd be out of it. He'd be frozen, and she'd have to wait, and she didn't want to wait, she didn't want to be apart from him. She wanted to come _with_ him. She wanted him inside her and on top of her and around her, she wanted to hold him and kiss him as she went.

She tugged him up, away from her thighs. He looked at her, his face flushed and his eyes dark but puzzled.

“Want you inside of me. _Now_ ,” she growled, and he smiled at that, that brilliant, adorable smile of his. Then he frowned.

“Right. Um. Condoms.”

River groaned. “That's sweet of you, but trust me, I'm not at risk of getting pregnant.”

“But – you know, diseases –”

“I'm clean, and if you say you're clean, I'll trust you on that.”

“Right,” he said hastily, “right, yeah, no, I'm clean too, of course.”

“Then _please_ get on with it!”

He smiled, leaned in so close that their lips nearly touched.

“Yes, ma'am,” he whispered.

_This guy._

She closed the distance, kissing him hungrily.

_This fucking guy._

He slid inside her, and she'd never felt more whole or complete.

 _Fucking this guy_.

It only took a few thrusts to make her cry out, and he must've been close too because he came with her, shouting just as loud, and she wondered vaguely if the guests would be able to hear them over the music before ecstasy washed over her and set her body aflame.

The music faded.

The colours swirled around her.

Time stopped.

She sighed happily, closing her eyes as he rolled off of her and laid down next to her.

“That was really good,” she mumbled.

“I know,” he said.

She sighed again. And then it hit her. And she looked to her left. And he was there. And he was staring at her. And he was just as shocked as she was.

And they both yelled at the same time:

“HOW ARE YOU HERE?!”

 


End file.
